Somewhere in Between
by fersinaratia
Summary: Was he even trying to do it? Expressing his concerns and all? Though he was respectful enough, it was never really clear if he actually liked her. But then again, why would she, the president's daughter, care anyway?


She was studying his face, again.

It was always puzzling the way he etched so many expressions through his eyes, his brows, and his lips. One after another, his moods reflected in the smoothest and quickest ways possible, she barely had time to figure out what he was truly feeling at one moment.

Or if he felt anything at all.

And as they currently ran, chased by five of the army of Ganados, time for her further examination of him withered completely from the blood-caked palm of her hands. She knew she had to stop thinking about him, even for just a while. Keep running despite her wobbly legs, keep her eyes on her tracks so that she wouldn't stumble and cause him any more royal pain, and even remember to _breathe_ despite how excruciatingly _handsome_ she found him under the moonlight. And needless to say, she was in a dire need to _stop_ staring at him for the sake of Christ.

They were quite in a battlefield, after all.

She panted, feeling her cheeks warm up guiltily. As she dragged her eyes from him, past her glance at the beads of sweat forming on his temples, his furrowed eyebrows and his pursed lips that dictated severe concentration, she caught sight of where they were trying to head to: the protection of a nearby cabin, which under the moonlight, seemed to have seen better days.

The sight of it sparked a sudden hope of rest in her, and immediately, she prayed for a mattress to be found inside. If she could only lie down her back on something soft for a couple of minutes, maybe then she would be able to drain her head of anymore delusional thoughts. It was once again her fatigue that caused her excessive scrutiny of her _bodyguard_.

_And nothing else_, she thought, swallowing a sudden lump in her throat.

Somehow, she knew that was a lie.

But before she could defend how it was true (at least in vain), Leon started to turn on his back, swaying her towards the shadows of the trees with a pull of his leather-gloved hand on her bare one. Her feet stumbled weakly as she stood behind him. Her thoughts, fragile as her limbs, broke into a shattering stop by the swift motions he put her into. In a whip of air, she had dropped helpless, again. While he acted upon his duty, to defend her.

As he aimed his gun at the approaching Ganados, she prepared her ears for the deafening roars of nearby bullets.

A shot.

Two shots, and three.

One by one, he dispatched them, and she just watched with a fondness that grew into a bore.

After the many times he had proven invincible of the enemies, by some means, she had already developed a sense of reliability for him and anticipation of his senseless victories over anything that threatened to snatch her away. It was only the spray of warm blood and the scattering of flesh, though, that she couldn't and just wouldn't grow fond of as they still managed to tarnish whatever was left of her innocence in the most inconvenient of ways.

Her eyes danced at the sight of a series of killings right before her. She had already expected him to win any minute afterward so that he could lead them both to the cabin of their refuge.

But something changed upon the air that night.

In a blinding twist, the number of the three remaining Ganados seemed to prick at his fatigue. There was something about the way his legs had almost given up that told her his condition was becoming unbearable.

Her breath caught on her throat, and the confidence she held out for him all of a sudden thinned off as she realized how he was unaware of a pitchfork about to be thrown towards his neck by one of the enemies slithering behind.

"LEON!" Her instinct was to scream his name.

In the middle of a grapple with a Ganado that caught his arm, he turned sideways and spared her a look that shot through her being.

_It was funny how time constantly seemed to stop._

Always the hero, he heeded to her calls. Dropped whatever he did to seek her wellness. And just evidently, there he was, pausing, at the risk of his life to _stop. _To take a look at her and see what was wrong. The slightest of him always made her feel dizzy with importance. And from there on, just having him looking back at her, she seemed to have forgotten why she even called out for his name.

In those spare seconds, she was able to get lost in her scrutiny of him, even from afar.

Extreme exhaustion clouded the usual blue hue of his orbs and shaded them grey. His lips separated to let out gasps for air.

Of course he was a lot more tired than she was. But still. _He found time to look her way_. And even with passionate concern framing his attractive visage. It always tugged at her heart the way he did it.

And it had always tugged at her curiosity too.

Was he even trying to do it? Expressing his concerns and all?

Though he was respectful enough, it was never really clear if he even liked her.

If he even cared for her. Or just for the benefits that she promised.

But then again, why would _she, _the president's daughter, fumble over such a petty fact anyway?

All this time survival was her priority. And despite how glazed his eyes were over hers, she deemed it to be Leon's too.

Noticing how incredibly foolish she was as she stood dumbstruck while he was about to be stricken to death, she forced her voice out with all her might and echoed loudly a yell that pierced through her own reverie, "_Behind you!_" Her finger pointed behind him and that was when it all seemed to register in his mind.

The devastating sight of the huge fork aimed _so close_ at the back of his skull made her cringe and look away, almost admitting to herself that just like that, Leon would soon be gone. To cleverly leave her in that gruesome land alone with her stupidity, once and for all.

Her chin dug deep in her right shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut, listening helplessly to the subsequent sounds of impaled flesh and opened skull, and soon, a vehement roar of a Ganado. She collected her breath in, unwilling to exhale them out as she braced herself.

_Silence._

Sobs bubbled in her throat, and tears started to well up at the sides of her eyes.

_Gone? Was he gone?_

But before they could all develop into an anguished cry, loud gunshots drove her to jump slightly from where she had dropped into a crouch. She snapped her head towards where Leon was supposed to be dead, and in its place, she found the fork-carrying Ganado inadvertently spearing the head of Leon's grappling enemy instead.

Alive.

He was exhausted to death. Bu he was still alive.

She sniffled, biting her lip with gratitude along with another form of embarrassment. For what reason, she had lost count.

Another shot, two more shots and three more, before they both heard the loud thump of the fall of the last dead body on the ground. And soon, only the sounds of the crickets hidden beneath the grass where they stood reverberated through the night.

Silence.

A sudden gush of cool air wheezed by, refreshing her forehead that had blond bangs soaked all over.

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, staring down at the immobile corpses that were haloed by their own blood. And she was just there, crouching, studying his face. Again.

Noticing how temporarily, she was free from the limits of time, with no more need to run from the undead or any other Plaga-infected creature, she knew nothing more of anything to do besides to stand from her position and try to make out what his face currently held.

The generous moonlight had allowed her full access to his features yet somehow, he was still unreadable. Those knitted brows remained stiff as he looked down and seemed to damn the deceased lying at the side of his feet. They _had_ been too close to dismantling him.

But she failed to see the color of his eyes as the locks of his blond-brown hair blocked them from view. His lips remained pursed as he breathed hoarsely through his nostrils, his muscular chest close to ripping his tight grey shirt while it rose up and pressed down with every deep intake of breaths. And suddenly, she grew amazed of the wide cloth lines that reflected the contours of his torso. 

_Oh, he was so well-built_.

He looked up to check on her. She slowly drew a smile on the sides of her mouth, smiling for him with the triumph that she previously thought was owned by the Ganados.

He didn't smile back.

"Let's go," he gave a murmur instead and sprinted towards her to take her hand and led them together towards the long sought-after cabin. She felt him pulling her once again into another one of their jogs, and came to wonder when it will ever end. Every now and then, they seemed to run for their lives, with not much time to ponder, not much time to just sit down, to probably look at each other (not that _she_ lacked in that part), and maybe fully drink in the mere fact that they both existed.

_Just both of them, Leon and Ashley._

Absently, her hands weakened at the sense of his skin seeping through the leather of his gloves. Electricity traveled back and forth along the flesh of her right arm as they both trudged the few meters towards their resting place. And as she peeked at him to see if he minded, she saw he was apparently all the same, just running through the forest, lost in his own little world. And it made her wonder what _he_ was thinking.

Sometimes, he just didn't seem to notice her_, _either as a girl or as a human being. But merely as something to protect just as how duty dictated to him. She might have as well transformed into an object. He wouldn't recognize it, she was sure, and she willingly bet he wouldn't give a damn either. As long as she was safely brought home to the person who gave him _the goods_, who was—ironically—her father, Leon Kennedy was happy.

While she replayed the ways he had been paying attention to her throughout the mission, it already seemed as if it didn't matter any longer if their nightmare ended. His preoccupied aura that only showed concern when she was in danger and nothing else beyond that told her he wouldn't bother to spare a glance at her anyway if not for his job. Maybe albeit they were to be given a chance to meet each other in a different time, in a different way, she would still be nothing but a mere speckle of blond in his sight. Nothing but something to blink away and get rid of immediately.

She heaved a lingering sigh as they stopped in front of the cabin, ignoring the warm tears springing in her eyes. He entered first and waved his gun at any possible lurking enemy. A few moments after, with an invitation from his hand, he told her that the cabin was clear and it was time to rest.

Silently, as she followed him inside, she sneaked a wipe at her eyes while he turned his back to lock the door.

A sack of rice appeared by the jammed window on their left and he walked towards it to drag the bulking material towards where she stood, frozen. Laying it flat on the wooden floor, he squatted, patting it down like a pillow.

Then, his head tilted up to say something to her, triggering a jolt in her chest as he looked her in the eyes.

"Take a rest while I go secure upstairs."

_Such a mundane voice_, she thought, despite how it was the only thing she seemed to have affinity for these days.

"Yeah," she whispered faintly in response.

He sighed with all his jaded nature and got up to climb the series of steps across Ashley, preparing his useful gun for any possible attack.

_Useful_, she thought, grazing the weapon with her deep observance.

She continuously gaped at him with almost some sort of yearning as he drowned himself with focus on climbing the stairs. There were still his creased blond-brown brows that covered a portion of those sturdy, now-translucent blue eyes, and the same pair of lips pressed together in a frown. He was less tired-looking. But nothing more than civil.

And while she stood there, just watching him slowly disappear into the upper floor for a moment or two, obscurity jabbed at her heart.

She didn't know if she should have been glad or sad for it.

But she was studying his face. Again.

And he didn't notice.

* * *

My second attempt at Resident Evil.

I declare myself nuts in the head for doing this.

Anyway, it was, yes, infuriatingly, a stupid drabble for some. But hopefully, I've gotten what I wished to have gotten across the other half, opposite of those who just thought this _was_ merely a drabble.

Tis a twoshot plan!

And with enough comments, I can make it there, the second chapter.

Okay, enough of this. P:

End silly speech.

Review?

Disclaimer: I own _none_ except the plot.


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